


Five Times Greg Gets Unsolicited Advice (and One Time He Asks)

by angelica, yumytaffy



Series: Everyone Tells Greg How He Feels About Rebecca [3]
Category: Crazy Ex-Girlfriend (TV)
Genre: 5 Times, 5+1 Things, Bartender Hans x Mother Teresa Luther King, Established Relationship, F/M, Fluff, Humor, Unresolved Sexual Tension, conclusion to the epic trilogy, sorrynotsorry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-20
Updated: 2016-03-20
Packaged: 2018-05-28 00:12:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 6,636
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6305899
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/angelica/pseuds/angelica, https://archiveofourown.org/users/yumytaffy/pseuds/yumytaffy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>With everyone giving him advice on how to interpret his relationship with Rebecca, Greg is beginning to suspect some sort of conspiracy.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Heather

**Author's Note:**

> This first part of this fic takes place directly after the Thanksgiving episode, and the rest takes place at various points during the previous [Rebecca](http://archiveofourown.org/works/5376110/chapters/12416786) and [White Josh](http://archiveofourown.org/works/5391764/chapters/12454403) 5 Times fics. Apparently we can't let go of this universe where Rebecca and Greg actually get their shit together.
> 
> As always, thank you to [Diaphenia](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Diaphenia/pseuds/Diaphenia) for the beta, support, and patience for text convos that begin with "So let's dissect Greg's character motivations in the last episode."

Greg wakes to the incessant sound of his text notifications. Eyes still closed, he reaches over to grab his phone from the nightstand and momentarily panics when he finds only air.

Confusion takes over when he opens his eyes and doesn't see his bedroom, but then he spots the taco wrappers and nearly empty tequila bottle on the coffee table. His heart jumps at the sight of Rebecca passed out at the other end of the couch, their once-shared blanket now exclusively tucked around her. 

It all comes back to him: practically getting pushed out of the hospital by his dad, coming to Rebecca’s apartment against his better judgement, and actually having a good time body-shaming canines and orphan whales with her. Even with his current headache and stiff neck, it was probably one of his better Thanksgivings.

He digs his phone out from between the couch cushions and finds a series of excited texts from Josh saying that Valencia agreed to move in with him. Greg closes his eyes. Wonderful. A new thing to deal with. He makes a mental note to call White Josh and Hector about it later. Hector’s wanted to hold an intervention for someone since he saw it on some TV show. It's an absurd idea, but maybe it's absurd enough to knock some sense into Josh.

The clock on the cable box says Greg has just enough time to take a shower and change clothes at home before another soul-crushing shift at the bar. He considers making a quiet break for it so as to not wake Rebecca, but he feels bad leaving the mess on the coffee table. His attempt to quietly stack the plates and glasses proves to be futile when she stirs on the couch.

“Greg?” she asks groggily. “What time is it?”

He glances over at Rebecca struggling to pry her eyes open. Once upon a time, he imagined waking up with her under entirely different circumstances, but he shakes himself out of it and reminds himself that ship has sailed. “It's a quarter to ten.”

“Really?” She pulls herself up into a sitting position. “I usually wake up at the crack of dawn.”

“You must’ve exhausted yourself running up the stairs all those times for the restroom last night.” Greg tried to ask what she ate to cause the state she was in, but every attempt at describing it seemed to trigger another wave of stomach grumbling. After her third dash up the stairs, he decided he didn’t need to know the answer that badly. “Have we talked about how inconvenient it is that your bathroom is not on the ground level?”

“Don’t remind me. After last night, I’m installing one of those motorized chairs that go up stairs.” She sinks into the couch as she watches him pick up the dishes and trash. “Just leave those. I’ll take care of it later.”

“I got it,” he says, already halfway to the kitchen. “It’s not like I don’t have experience cleaning up the remnants of an ill-advised round of drinks.”

“Seriously, just leave it in the sink,” Rebecca calls, yawning. When he doesn’t answer, she adds in a half-hearted whine, “I have a system for washing my dishes!”

“What does that even mean?” he calls back over the sound of running water. He catches the mumbled words “stacked according to size” and “soap viscosity” as he makes quick work of the dishes. 

By the time he shuts off the faucet, Rebecca is suspiciously quiet. He finds her curled up on the couch, fast asleep again. Pointedly not thinking about how pretty she looks even when passed out with her mouth open, he drapes the fallen blanket back over her before quietly closing the front door behind him.

Greg is almost to the edge of the yard when a voice makes him jump. “Way to go, slugger.”

On the other side of the gate is a familiar-looking woman with red streaks in her hair. He asks, “Excuse me?”

She nods her head towards the front door. “You're doing the walk of shame.”

“Oh, no, I just fell asleep. We were watching a movie.” He pauses. “Why am I telling you this?”

“I've been told I’m easy to talk to,” she says flatly. 

That intonation finally clicks in his head. “Hey, you're Rebecca’s neighbor, right? Heather? I'm Greg. We met at her party.”

She tilts her head. “Are you the guy from the grocery store with half an eyelid?”

“That’s clearly not me.”

“Did you dig that hole between my and Rebecca’s fence? Because someone still needs to fill that in.”

Greg braces himself. “No, I’m the one who got drunk and slow danced with the giant fish.”

Heather chuckles. “I remember now. Didn't you ask the fish to go home with you?”

“I was trying to avoid mentioning that part,” Greg says through gritted teeth. Even worse is that in his drunken imagination, the fish said no.

Recognition dawns on Heather’s face. “Wait. You're that guy Rebecca went out with. That sucks about the Taco Festival.”

“Yeah.” He tells himself he’s over the whole Taco Festival thing. He and Rebecca getting romantically involved was a bad idea anyway. He knows that. It’s only a weird tick that his heart constricts every time he thinks about it. “How do you know about that?”

“Rebecca’s an over-sharer.” She shrugs. “Looks like you got over it if you spent the night.”

“No, I just said we fell asleep watching a movie.” He has no idea why he feels the need to set the record straight with a stranger, even if she apparently knows a lot about his personal life. 

“Whatever. You should really loosen up about the vegan guy.”

“Me?” Greg snaps before he can stop himself. “I’m not the one who--you know what? Never mind. I don’t even know you or why we’re having this conversation.”

“Rebecca’s bonker balls, but she means well,” Heather continues as if he hadn’t spoken. “She feels bad about what happened. I heard her shame spiraling afterwards. Our walls are really thin. It was a lot of pork rinds and crying during _Love Actually_.”

He doesn’t know what to do with this information, so he says the one thing that he’s sure of: “I know she’s sorry it happened.”

Heather shrugs. She turns to leave but seems to think better of it and says, “Hey, be careful with her.”

Greg can’t help it. He’s kind of touched that this weird stranger is worried about him. “Thanks for your concern about me, but--”

“No, I meant _you_ be careful with _her_. She’s going through some stuff. I don't know you.”

Yeah, that makes more sense. “Rebecca and I aren’t dating.”

“Sure. Just know I'm watching you.” She shoots him a glare.

Greg feels an odd mix of offense that Heather assumes he’d be the one to hurt Rebecca when Rebecca already hurt him, relief that someone is looking out for Rebecca, and genuine fear that Heather might actually maim him. He nods uncomfortably and walks to his car as quickly as he can without looking like he's running away.


	2. Valencia

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Takes place post-[ice skating chapter](http://archiveofourown.org/works/5376110/chapters/12417206) in Rebecca's 5 Times fic

“That is a very bad idea.”

Greg looks up to see Valencia bursting through Home Base’s front doors and making a beeline for him. After all these years, it’s still hard to push down the fear she strikes in his heart. “Hey, V.”

“You need to stop it right now.”

“Stop drying this glass in my hand?” This is a new level of controlling, even for Valencia.

“Don't play dumb with me, Greg.”

Greg looks to White Josh, who’s nursing a beer at the bar, for a hint, but he seems just as lost. Greg tells her, “You just stormed into the bar and told me something was a bad idea. There was zero preamble.”

Valencia spits, “We all saw you be all Mila Kunis and Ashton Kutcher-like with Rebecca at the skating rink last night. It was adorable.”

“That sounds like a compliment in the tone of an insult.”

“She is an awful person. Everything she’s ever said is a lie. I'm telling you that you need to nip that in the giant ass while you still can.”

“‘Nip that in the ass’?”

“Yeah, ‘nip it in the butt,’” Valencia explains. “It's a saying.”

“It's ‘nip it in the _bud_ ,’” White Josh chimes in.

Valencia crosses her arms. “That doesn't make sense.”

“And ‘nip it in the butt’ does?” Greg asks, then shakes his head. “No, that’s not important. First of all, there is nothing going on between me and Rebecca. Secondly, why do you care?”

Valencia’s expression softens. “Because, Greg, you’re my friend. I want what’s best for you.”

“You’re concerned about me,” Greg states disbelievingly.

Her voice takes on that unconcerned air he’s more used to. “And also if you date her, she’ll be around even more than she is now, and I do not need that in my life.”

“There it is.”

It’s a bit rich to be getting relationship judgement from the girlfriend who is currently ruining Josh’s life. Greg almost wants to start dating Rebecca just to piss off Valencia. Not that he would date Rebecca because of Valencia. Not that he would date Rebecca at all. Not anymore.

They’ve torpedoed the idea of a romantic relationship pretty spectacularly. (One of them might have had more of hand in that than the other.) Since Thanksgiving, though, they’ve been hanging out more as friends. Without the tenseness of romantic undertones and, well, Josh, Greg has been able to see Rebecca as a platonic partner who is actually kind of fun to be around and supportive of his plans to go back to business school. 

Rebecca may not be the greatest person, but he wasn’t wrong about her being a good friend. He tells himself they work best as friends. Particularly combative friends but friends nonetheless. 

Greg really doesn’t want to reassure Valencia, but it’s the only way to make her leave him alone. “Rebecca and I are just friends.”

She sighs and looks at him with disappointment. “That doesn’t entirely make her go away, but it’ll do for now. Just make sure she stays away from me and Josh.”

It takes everything in Greg to not bang his head on the bar. “Sure, Valencia.”

“Great. Well, I’m off to exchange the Christmas presents Josh got me. I found them where he hid them under the bed. I love my Joshie, but he has terrible taste in pretty much everything. Like why would I want JLo’s perfume?” She scoffs and rolls her eyes. “I’m getting Kim Kardashian’s perfume instead.” She turns on her heel and calls over her shoulder, “Bye, guys!”

Greg sighs and rolls his eyes heavenward. “Josh really does have terrible taste.”

“Hector’s intervention idea is starting to look pretty good,” White Josh offers.

“We're definitely in trouble if we're going to Hector for ideas.”


	3. Josh

Greg finds himself at the boba stand for the third time in as many days. He grew up around boba shops but never really cared for the drink until a few months ago when Rebecca started regularly dragging him here--not that he’ll admit that and give her the satisfaction of knowing she was right about how addictive these “weird little tumors,” as she calls them, are.

He’s just placed his order and taken a seat at a nearby table when a hand claps his back.

“Hey, Greg!” Josh greets. “What are you doing here? I thought you didn’t like boba.”

“I just felt like chewing my drink today.”

“Hold on. I called my order ahead. Let me grab it.” Josh returns a minute later with both of their drinks, then takes the chair opposite Greg’s. “How’s it going? I’ve barely seen you since the dance show. Thanks for coming to that, by the way. It meant a lot.”

“Yeah, of course, man. It was fun. You did a great job. There was a lot of...flipping.” Even though he has little interest in dance himself, Greg spent much of his time in high school going to Josh’s dance shows. Josh poured his heart, soul, and hours into those routines back then, and Greg doubts it would be any different now. The least Greg can do is show up and support his best friend.

“Aw, thanks. I just choreographed, though. The kids did all the hard work.” Josh shrugs sheepishly. “What’ve you been up to?”

“Been busy. I started night classes, which are going great.”

“That’s awesome! It’s very cool you're doing that. How’s Becks, by the way?”

Greg’s taken aback. “I don’t know. Why are you asking me?”

“You’ve been together a lot, and she helped you get into your classes. You guys are all over Insta. It’s like you started going out and didn’t tell anyone.” Josh laughs that good-natured laugh of his, which Greg decides is really unnerving at this moment.

“Pshaw, no we haven’t.” Greg goes over the last few weeks in his head: movies with Rebecca, hanging out at Rebecca’s place watching Netflix, that art walk with Rebecca, movies with Rebecca again, White Josh’s poetry reading that he convinced Rebecca to go to, more evenings at Rebecca’s apartment and at the movies--wow, they sit and watch a lot of things. Maybe they should take up some type of physical activity together.

Nope. Not going there.

“We have been hanging out a lot,” Greg concedes. “But that’s because we’re friends.”

There's a twinkle in Josh's eye that Greg does not appreciate. “Seems like you’re dating.”

“We’re not,” Greg insists. Did it suddenly get warm in this park? The trees feel like they’re closing in. “In fact, I’ve been thinking I should spend more time on my own. You know, get in touch with nature, bang on some drums...or something. And have you noticed that Rebecca spaces out a lot and starts humming? That’s weird, right?”

“You’re doing it again,” Josh warns. “You’re making up problems as an excuse to break up with her.”

“You can’t break up if you aren’t dating.”

“Come on, dude. We’ve been best friends for way too long. I’ve seen how this goes. You get close to a girl, then break up with her for something stupid. It’s like Cindy from a couple of years ago who chewed gum with her mouth open.”

“Yeah, it was gross.”

Josh thinks for a moment. “What about Amanda? You said all of her shoes were loud. What does that even mean? Or Samantha. You said she was heartless?”

“She said _Up_ was just ‘kind of sad.’” Greg was horrified when he and Samantha watched the movie together, and she remained unnervingly stoic throughout. Even Greg shed a tear, and he considers himself an emotionless robot.

“Okay. That one I get. But I watched a lot of _Dr. Phil_ , and you’re what he calls a commitment-phobe.”

“I am not,” Greg scoffs. Oh, God. Is he?

Josh scrunches his nose and recites as if he’s reading from the sky, “Commitment-phobic behavior reflects a deep-seated fear that if you love somebody, she’ll leave you. It’s usually rooted in a childhood trauma.”

Wow. Can’t say TV isn't educational. “How much _Dr. Phil_ did you watch?”

“I didn’t have a job for a while,” Josh says with a shrug. “I was home all day. The only things on were _Dr. Phil_ and those ITT Tech commercials. Okay, look, I’ve seen you guys. You’re clearly into each other. You’re together all the time, and she hasn’t gone anywhere. Putting a title on it wouldn't be a bad thing.”

In the rare, brief moments of being honest with himself, Greg admits that he really likes being with Rebecca. They have fun. They get each other. Whenever he’s around her, he gets this fluttery feeling in his stomach that could be best described as “pleasant food poisoning,” or “butterflies” if he’s feeling sentimental.

And maybe the thought of being with her exclusively doesn’t terrify him as much as it usually would. Then again, just because he has...positive feelings of attraction towards her and would not mind being more than friends, he doesn’t actually know how she feels. They tried before, and it didn’t work.

It feels different now, though. She seems more present, not like before when she seemed to be constantly looking to be somewhere else, maybe be _with_ someone else.

But the big problem, he knows, is that he's terrified of losing the best relationship in his life whether it be because of his issues, her issues, or a delightful combination of both.

Greg suddenly finds the boba in his drink really interesting. “That's probably not the best idea.”

“How do you know for sure?”

Greg doesn’t have an answer for that.

Josh checks his ringing phone. “Sorry, bro, I gotta run. I forgot Valencia needs me to pick up basil.”

“To ward off ghosts?”

“No, to make pesto.” Josh stands and puts a hand on Greg’s shoulder. “Hey, Rebecca’s really special. You guys fit together. Don’t ruin something good before it even starts because you’re afraid it'll go away.”

Greg nods. “Thanks, man.”

Once he’s sure Josh is out of sight, Greg puts his face in his hands. With White Josh and now Josh giving him advice on how to interpret his relationship with Rebecca--not to mention that ever since his dad met her, every other word out of his mouth is an inquiry as to why she hasn’t been over for dinner yet--Greg is beginning to suspect some sort of conspiracy.

In something of a challenge to them that he and Rebecca can be just friends, he texts her.

_April 4 at 3:25 PM_  
_From: Greg_  
_To: Rebecca_  
_Are we still on for the movies tonight?_

_April 4 at 3:32 PM_  
_From: Rebecca_  
_To: Greg_  
_Can we go another time? Darryl sneezed his flu onto me yesterday_  
_I think I'm dying_  
_I take it back. I'm dying for real_

Greg rolls his eyes at her dramatic texts. She’s on her deathbed, apparently, and warning him to stay away. His instinct is to do the opposite of whatever she says, maybe even make her that chicken soup his mom used to make for him when he was sick.

He’s not really sure what kind of message he’s sending by doing this, but friends make each other chicken soup when they’re sick. That’s a thing, isn’t it?

He swallows his doubt and dials a number as he heads to the grocery store.

“Hey, Dad. Do you have that chicken soup recipe around?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In case you haven't read the previous fics and are curious to see how Greg's chicken soup adventure went, the [last chapter of Rebecca's story](http://archiveofourown.org/works/5376110/chapters/12417488) takes place immediately after this.
> 
> Also, bits of Josh's dialogue were lovingly borrowed from episode 1x10 ("I'm Back at Camp with Josh!").


	4. Bro Texts

Greg hands Rebecca the bowl of freshly popped popcorn and settles in next to her for another episode of _Top Chef._

Only a couple of weeks of officially dating, and they’ve apparently already moved on to the boring domestic stage. Weirdly, he actually enjoys it. Sure, there are moments when he finds himself watching TV with her or doing work for his classes at the dining table while she preps for a case beside him, and the urge to run creeps in. But then he remembers that the alternative is to not be with Rebecca, and he forgets why he'd ever want to be anywhere else.

His phone vibrates once, then a few more times in quick succession. Either Rebecca has mastered the art of texting without touching her phone or the group text chain with him, Josh, White Josh, Hector, and Beans is active. He checks his messages.

 

**Hector:** hey what are u guys up to tonight?

**Beans:** work

**Hector:** lame

**White Josh:** I’m in the middle of re-reading the works of Faulkner. Tonight, it’s The Sound and the Fury.

**Hector:** nerd

**Josh:** Valencia wants to buy curtains

**Hector:** whipped

**Greg:** staying in with Rebecca

**Hector:** hey Greg  yet?

**Greg:** What’s that, all i get is squares

**Josh:** DUDE YOU DONT HAVE EMOJIS?

**Greg:** no, I don't have emotions. I thought that was established

**White Josh:** Emojis. They are these little symbols for words. Like hieroglyphics.

**Greg:** no, I use my words for words

**White Josh:** They are asking if you and Rebecca...you know.

**Greg:** what?

**Hector:** HAVE YOU BANGED YET?

**Beans:** GET THAT, HOMBRE

**Greg:** I’m not discussing my sex life with you guys. We’re not 16.

**Hector:** LOOK WHO’S TALKING NOW?

**Hector:** REMEMBER WHEN YOU WERE DATING JESSIE CHAMBERS IN 9TH GRADE?

**Hector:** AND ALL YOU TALKED ABOUT WAS GETTING TO SECOND BASE WITH HER?

**Beans:**  

**Greg:** That was when we were idiots

**Hector:** OH ARE YOU ALL MATURE AND MIGHTY NOW?

**White Josh:** Dudes, relax. If he doesn’t want to talk about it, then he doesn’t have to.

**Greg:** Thanks White Josh

**Josh:** Rebecca is a 

**Josh:** you’re lucky

**Greg:** I really am

**Hector:** 110% would bang. those boobs!

**Greg:** dude, that's my girlfriend you’re talking about

**Beans:** GIRLFRIEND!!!

**Beans:** MIRA MIRA! LA NOVIA?

**Beans:** you are so marrying her.   

**Greg:** all I see are squares

**White Josh:** He sent emojis of a bride, a church, and a synagogue, followed by confetti and wedding bells.

**Josh:** You’re gonna have pretty babies

**Beans:** Pretty half-jewish half-italian babies

**Greg:** I’m only half italian

**Beans:** They’re gonna be pretty either way

**Beans:**  

**Greg:** shut up

**Hector:** IT’S THE TRUTH

**Greg:** just stop it. all of you

**Hector:** You need to lock that down

**Josh:** I kind of agree

**White Josh:** Hector isn’t wrong.

**Hector:** Get her flowers!

**Beans:**

**Hector:** And chocolate

**Beans:** CHOCOLATE! Get the fancy ones. Like Hershey’s Kisses

**Beans:** No, Hershey’s Hugs are fancier. They’re milk AND white chocolate

**Hector:** And diamonds

**Beans:**

**Greg:** Beans I have no idea what you’re typing

**Hector:** AND THE MOST IMPORTANT

**Hector:**

**Josh:** Dude, Rebecca is a friend

**Greg:** I don’t know what’s going on. what are those squares?

**White Josh:** He’s sending eggplants.

**Greg:** What do eggplants have to do with anything?

**Hector:** THEY ARE DICKS DUDE

**Greg:** classy

 

Greg glances over at Rebecca to make sure her focus is still on the TV. In the grand scheme of things, his idiot friends talking about her isn’t the most embarrassing thing to happen so far in his and Rebecca’s short but eventful relationship, but it doesn’t mean she needs to know about it.

“What’s going on there?” Rebecca asks faux-casually, waving her hand in the general vicinity of Greg’s phone.

He slides the device into his pocket and tries to look innocent. “What’s that?”

“You and your phone. You’ve been glued to it during this entire episode like a teenaged girl texting her boyfriend.” Rebecca tries to look stern, but there’s amusement dancing in her eyes. “You didn’t even say anything when that delusional cheftestant tried to make risotto during the Quickfire Challenge.”

“Ah, it’s nothing. Just dudes bein’ dudes.”

“I don’t know what that means.” She holds up a hand. “You know what, it’s fine. I'm a super chill girlfriend. I'm not going to demand to see your phone even though you look really suspicious.”

He thinks for a moment and holds out his phone. “Here.”

Rebecca drops the teasing tone. “Greg, seriously. I trust you. You don’t have to show me.”

She really isn’t pushing, and it makes him feel uneasy for hiding something from her, as stupid as it is. It’s a new feeling. He never felt like actually sharing things with past girlfriends. He hands over his phone. “No, I want to.”

She takes it carefully as though she expects him to snatch it back, then reads the first few messages. “You _have_ been texting your boyfriend!” she exclaims gleefully. She reads a little more. “Oh. Your many boyfriends.”

“Funny,” Greg deadpans.

“Aw, they like me!” she says as she scrolls. “You know, it really is weird you don’t have emojis. I don’t know how you communicate with anyone.”

“I communicate with _words_ like normal people.”

“Does this mean all those times I sent you emojis, you didn’t know what they were?”

“Don’t say it. You know I hate when you call me ‘Old Man Serrano.’”

“No, I’m just relieved that you didn’t respond to my sexting because you didn’t understand it and not because I was bad at it.”

“Sexting?” Greg is suddenly very interested in this whole emoji thing.

“Anyway, it’s very sweet of you to share these texts with me.” She kisses him lightly as she hands back his phone. “You really don’t have to, though. There are some things I don’t need to know, like how guys talk about women. It’s kind of gross. That said, your friends aren’t entirely wrong.”

“Really?”

"About _some_ things. Now, if I miss this Elimination Challenge, I will have to hurt you.” She pats his knee and turns back to the TV.

Greg feels his phone vibrate again but ignores it. He’s had enough from them for the night.


	5. Darryl

Greg steps into the Whitefeather & Associates office, hoping to steal Rebecca away for a spontaneous lunch. Even though they live together now, it’s like they see each other less. With her particularly large caseload recently and him pulling double duty at the bar and night classes, they’ve hardly seen each other in weeks. With any luck, they’ll get an hour to themselves.

“Hi, is Rebecca Bunch here?” he asks the receptionist.

Before she can answer, Darryl emerges from his office and greets, “Hey, Greg! It’s great to see you.”

“Hi, Darryl,” Greg returns, shaking his hand. “Good to see you, too.”

“I’ve been wondering when you’d stop by and see our girl.”

“‘Our’ girl--?”

“Isn’t Rebecca the greatest?” Darryl pushes on. “I knew it the moment I met her. Not in a creepy way, no. I appreciate her as a valued employee.”

“That’s good to hear,” Greg answers carefully, trying to track where this conversation is going.

“Listen,” Darryl begins, clasping his hands together, “I’m sure you’re here to see Rebecca, but why don’t we step into my office while you’re here?”

Greg is taken aback. Whatever this is, there is no way it will end well. He tries to backtrack. “Oh, I only have a couple of minutes to tell Rebecca something.”

“It’ll only take a moment.”

“Okay...” Greg scans the room for Rebecca as he follows Darryl to his office. He catches Paula’s attention instead and silently appeals for her help.

She looks as confused as he feels but stands and calls out, “Hey, Darryl! Can you come take a look at this file from the Henderson case?

“I’ll be there in a minute. Can you hold my calls?”

“I’m not your secretary,” Paula says, offended, as Darryl closes the door behind him and Greg. 

“Have a seat.” Darryl gestures to the couch with the wolfskin draped over it. “So from what I hear, you and Rebecca are getting pretty serious.”

“Yes,” Greg says slowly, inconspicuously glancing through the windows to the rest of the office and wondering how he can get out of this awkward and probably line-crossing conversation. Relief washes over him as Paula flags down Rebecca and points her towards the office. 

Rebecca knocks on the door and pokes her head in. “Hey, Darryl! I just wanted to ask--oh, wait. Who’s this handsome fellow you have here? Why, if it isn’t my beloved beau Greg. Why is Greg in your office, Darryl?”

“I’m just having a conversation with your Greg here. I just need five minutes. If you can close the door on your way out, that would be great.”

Rebecca looks a little startled at how assertive Darryl is being. When she briefly makes eye contact with Greg, he expects her to be usual defiant self and insist on sitting in with them, but instead, she gives him a small shrug and closes the door.

Panic rises in Greg’s chest. He’s just been abandoned by his girlfriend in her strange boss’s office that’s filled with more wolf paraphernalia than is considered appropriate, and now he’s apparently going to get a talking-to.

Darryl clears his throat, then leans back against his desk opposite to Greg. “What are your intentions with Rebecca?”

“Excuse me?”

“I just want to make sure you’re doing right by her.”

“I don’t see how this is appropriate for a boss/employee relationship.”

Darryl’s expression softens a bit. “When I needed help the most, Rebecca was there for me, and now I’m returning the favor. That’s what friends do.” 

“Can the favor exclude me?”

“No,” he says cheerily. “Rebecca is one of the smartest, strongest women I’ve had the pleasure of meeting, but she wears her heart on her sleeve. Like I do.”

“I know--about Rebecca, that is.” It’s one of the things Greg loves about her, but Darryl doesn’t need to know that.

“My point is,” Darryl says but stops, apparently too overcome with emotion. “Sorry, I’m getting choked up just thinking this. Rebecca is like a daughter to me. Yes, I have an actual daughter, and she is my entire world, but she luckily still has a long way for experiences such as these.”

“Yeah, Madison is great, and so is her snail collection,” Greg offers, trying to suppress the horror of seeing those strange pets when Rebecca showed him the young girl’s surprisingly well-produced YouTube channel some months ago.

“Right?” Darryl agrees, throwing his hands up. “I was against the snails at first, but Madison loves them so much, and I can’t deny her anything.”

Greg has to admit that Darryl’s adoration for Madison is more than a little endearing. That type of fatherly affection is something Greg secretly hopes to give himself one day, though he’s never voiced it to anyone, not even to Rebecca. He has a tough, manly reputation to uphold.

Darryl turns a fatherly look to Greg. “I won’t see Madison walk down the aisle myself for a long, long time, but with Rebecca, I can get a chance now while I’m young.”

“The aisle?” Greg nearly spits out in surprise. “We haven’t--”

“And I approve of you, Greg,” Darryl says beatifically. 

“Darryl, I--”

“I know I’m not a good example on the marriage front with my divorce and everything, but I know what a man in love looks like. You remind me so much of myself when I was about to pop the question.”

Greg wonders what gave him away. Even though he and Rebecca haven’t even come near the topic of marriage, his grandmother’s ring locked away in a safety deposit box has been on his mind a lot lately. He’s even gone as far as going through Rebecca’s jewelry to check her ring size, just so the ring will be perfect for her when the time is right, whenever that is.

Darryl walks over and puts a hand on Greg’s shoulder. “I just want you to know that you have my blessing.”

“Your blessing?”

“Yes, to ask Rebecca to marry you. You see, I consider myself something of a father figure to her. We don’t have paternal blessings in Chippewa traditions, but assuming you follow your Italian heritage, I just wanted to give you the go-ahead.”

Despite the absolute ridiculousness of the situation, Greg can’t help but smile. Darryl is a strange bird, but he has a good heart. Greg stands and shakes the older man’s hand. “Thanks, Darryl.”

“You’re welcome,” Darryl says, then adds after a beat, “son.”

There’s the line. Greg shakes his head. “Let’s not overdo it.”

Darryl nods emphatically. “Yep. I heard it. It felt wrong as soon as I said it.”

“I'm just gonna go,” Greg says as he goes to the door and opens it. Instinctively, he catches a falling Rebecca, who’d been leaning her entire body against the door to try to listen in.

“Hey,” she tries to say casually as Greg stifles a laugh and helps her regain her footing. “Clumsy me lost her balance walking past the door.”

If Darryl notices the attempted eavesdropping, he doesn’t let on. Instead, before he retreats back into his office, he says, “You’ve got a good one here, Bunch. I’ll see you two later.”

“Bye, Darryl,” Greg says quickly and grabs Rebecca’s hand. Now that he's out, he feels the need to distance himself before Darryl decides to lecture him and Rebecca on the sanctity of marriage. “Let’s go to lunch.”

“What was that about?” Rebecca asks after managing to grab her purse and wave goodbye to Paula as Greg nudges her towards the elevator.

Greg finally allows himself to breathe as the elevator doors close. “Let’s just forget that happened.”


	6. (+1) Paula

It seemed like a good idea when he was driving over, but now, with his hand poised to ring the doorbell, Greg suddenly doesn’t know what possessed him to come to Paula’s house. Before he can lose his nerve, he pushes the button.

Paula opens the door, her face registering confusion then worry. “Greg! What are you doing here? Is Rebecca okay?”

“She's fine. She doesn't know I'm here. I needed to talk to you.”

“Okay,” Paula says warily. “Come on in.”

As she leads him into the living room, Greg realizes that in all the time he and Rebecca have been dating, he’s never actually been to Paula’s house. It’s very homey with a touch of...ninja. People probably shouldn’t have throwing stars just laying around on their coffee table. In the distance, Greg hears a series of dull thuds.

Paula sees his confusion and explains, “My son’s in the garage practicing his katana. He’s a nightmare.” She sighs. “Anyway, have a seat. What’s going on?”

“I don't know how else to say this.” Greg pulls out a small velvet box and opens it to reveal a solitaire ruby ring with diamonds dotting the band. He clears his throat nervously. “It’s my grandmother’s ring.”

Paula gasps exaggeratedly. “Greg, I’m flattered, and I have on more than one occasion called you an Italian stallion, but I can’t do that to Rebecca.”

He’s too distracted by his heart beating in his throat to properly react to jokes right now. “You’re Rebecca’s best friend. You’re family to her, and...I don’t know. For all her transparency, she’s hard to read sometimes. I guess I’m looking for a sign that this is what she wants, too.”

He and Rebecca spoke about marriage before but only in the nebulous “when we get married someday” terms. They'd also spoken about buying a vineyard, inventing a pen that’s also a phone, and going on _The Amazing Race_ , so maybe not all of their plans are solid.

Rebecca also drives him crazy sometimes, like when she zones out on him and suggests they watch some Fred Astaire musical when she comes to, insists on only using a specific type of pen to write grocery lists, or makes expensive impulse purchases instead of doing price comparisons. Thinking back on it, she actually drives him crazy a lot of the time.

Knowing all that, he’s still absolutely, stupidly, head over heels in love with Rebecca Bunch. For the first time in his life, someone else has complete control of his heart. For the first time in his life, he’s okay with that.

Paula’s expression softens, and she puts a calming hand on his. “It’s a beautiful ring, Greg. She’s going to love it.”

“So you think she’ll say yes?” he asks, his breathing more shallow than he cares to admit.

Paula looks at him for a long moment, her expression unreadable. Finally, she says, “You know, I knew from the first time we met that you and Rebecca would end up together.”

“Did you really?” he asks, unconvinced.

“Nah, not at all,” Paula says airily. “It just felt like the right thing to say. I was trying to get her with Josh.”

“Wait, what?” Well, this conversation took a turn.

“It’s nothing,” she says with a wave of her hand. “I got caught up in the romantic notion of them being childhood sweethearts. It was just...I put in a lot of work.”

The Greg of two years ago would probably nix this attempted proposal on the spot. Thankfully, he’s logged countless hours dealing with his Josh complex through White Josh’s surprisingly effective armchair psychology. At least now, instead of being filled with crippling doubt over why his girlfriend didn’t tell him her best friend tried to fix her up with his best friend, Greg is just alarmingly perturbed.

“I'm sorry your hard work didn't pay off?” Greg offers.

Paula shakes her head. “No, see, that's the point. It didn't work out despite the astronomical amount of work I did because it wasn't meant to be. I mean, I can’t emphasize how hard I worked.” She briefly stares into the middle distance, then shakes herself out of it. “You and Rebecca happened because it was supposed to. Despite my best efforts.” She sighs. “God, I put so much effort into it. Most of it legal.”

“Do you mind if I don’t listen so I have plausible deniability?”

“I should've seen it coming,” Paula continues, though she seems to be talking mostly to herself. “Rebecca’s story wasn’t ‘girl meets boy at summer camp and lives happily ever after.’ It was the classic ‘boy and girl hate each other but are actually perfect for each other and fall in love’ misdirect. You're Peeta and Katniss.”

“Peeta didn't hate her in the beginning,” Greg says. 

“You watched _The Hunger Games_? Never mind. You’re right. You and Rebecca are more like Logan and Veronica. Or maybe Elizabeth and Darcy, minus the money and the privilege.”

“I don’t see where this is going.”

“What I’m saying,” Paula continues, “is that in spite of her flightiness and delusions, your low self-esteem and fear of commitment, both of your major parental issues--”

“This isn’t helping.”

“ _In spite_ of all that,” Paula says pointedly, “you fit together. You changed each other for the better. Does she make you happy?”

“More than anything,” he replies without hesitation.

“And you make her happy. It’s ridiculous how happy she is with you.” She smiles fondly at him. “I won't pretend marriage is easy, but you've survived this much with each other. How much worse can it be?”

“Famous last words,” he chuckles wryly. Then again, if they survived the whole revelation of why Rebecca moved to West Covina in the first place, they can probably handle whatever else comes their way. 

“So this is happening?” Paula asks cautiously.

“This is happening,” Greg confirms. Excitement and a little nausea--maybe a lot of nausea--bubbles up.

“We’re going to be best friends-in-law!” Paula exclaims, crushing him in a hug.

“That’s not a thing,” he says, slightly breathlessly from his lungs getting squeezed.

“Don’t ruin the moment, Greg. My baby girl’s getting married!” She finally lets him go. “Do you know how you’re going to do it? Tell me everything! Or do you need help? I have a ton of ideas.”

“I have some ideas,” Greg says cryptically. Well, he has one idea that needs work or he can go with White Josh’s suggestion of a flash mob dance. Big romantic displays are not Greg’s thing, but Rebecca always did love dramatic gestures. “Actually, I might need your help later if that’s okay.”

“Yes, please, anything to help,” Paula says, her eyes wide. “Can I have a hint?”

“Maybe later,” Greg laughs lightly. “Speaking of which, I have to go. I told Rebecca I was picking up fondue an hour ago. She’s going to start complaining that the cheese is congealing.”

“Yeah, of course,” Paula says as they both stand and walk to the front door. She gives him a parting hug and says tearfully, “I am so happy for you both.”

He nods somewhat shyly. “Thanks, Paula.”

Greg gets into his car, his heart nearly beating out of his chest and the ring box burning a hole in his pocket, and sets off for home.

 

**end.**


End file.
